Page 88 of The Law of Attraction

We shake hands and he eyes me suspiciously, as if weighing up whether I’m going to cause trouble. Wearing an Omega, chinos, and a tailored shirt, I hardly think I look like the type, but in my mind, I would love to lay my hands on the bastard who hurt Becky.

‘If you’re ready, Becky, we’ll go in. Mike is in there with his lawyer. Are you sure you don’t want anything?’

‘Not a thing. I just want rid of him.’

‘All right then.’

She could take whatever she wants. Damn, she could press charges against the asshole. But this is her show, not mine. I run a hand down her back, letting her know I’m with her, before Victor opens the door. I feel her body tense when she sees her soon-to-be-ex sitting on the far side of a mahogany table. He stays seated, his eyes fixed on me. I notice more about him this time: his dark eyes, his harsh, angular features, his broad shoulders. It doesn’t deter me or make my anger wane in the slightest. In fact, it gets my hackles up. I want to put this guy’s nose across the other side of his face.

‘Ms Fletcher. My name is Harold.’

After introductions, we take our seats opposite Mike and his attorney. The air is charged, tense, in the heat of the room.

‘Well, this should be very simple,’ Victor begins, shuffling papers in a cardboard file as if this is the nineteen fifties. ‘My client wants only to have divorce papers signed today. She isn’t interested in dividing assets. She wants only to walk away.’

‘Rebecca, you don’t want this.’ I feel myself go rigid as Mike looks at Becky. His words sound like a plea, but his eyes say they’re a threat. I’d like nothing more than to ram my fist into his throat.

She closes her eyes. ‘Mike, you have nothing to offer me. Don’t make this difficult. Just sign the papers.’

‘What if I won’t? What are you going to do about it, Rebecca?’ His words are low, ominous even. I have to bite my tongue to keep from defending her. She needs to do this herself.

‘Then we’ll go to court if that’s what it takes.’

He stands from his chair with such force, the wood clatters against the wall behind him. ‘You’re a manipulative bitch.’

I count to ten in my head. When I haven’t calmed, I count to twenty, then thirty. At this rate, there will be someone ending up behind bars and it might not be him.

‘Mr Fletcher, my client would like this to remain amicable,’ Victor begins.

‘Amicable? She fucking stole nine years of my life, and you want me to play nice? She killed my baby. Our baby.’

I watch Becky’s eyes fill. Her voice is weak. ‘That wasn’t my fault.’

I place my hand on her thigh and lean into her ear. ‘He knows that, Becky. Don’t let him get to you.’

She looks at me with surprise, as if she’s just remembered I’m here with her. I will her to be strong, to do this for herself. I want her to be the Becky from New York. The Becky she wants to be.

‘I should be filing for fucking adultery,’ Mike snarls. ‘You expect me to believe you weren’t shagging this American twat? Is that why you left?’ He places his hands on the desk, leaning toward Becky, making himself taller than her, more intimidating.

‘Mike, sit down; this isn’t helping anyone,’ his attorney says.

Mike shrugs him off. ‘Do you enjoy fucking my wife?’

I stand from the table and give him a sadistic grin. ‘She hasn’t been your wife for a long time. She should be hauling your ass through assault proceedings, you son of a bitch. Consider yourself a very lucky man that she just wants to walk away. And by the way, if you and I have a problem, we can step outside. I’d love to give you a beating.’

‘Gentlemen, gentlemen. Let’s all calm down.’

‘Victor, I just want to sign the papers, that’s all,’ Becky pleads. ‘I want nothing from you, Mike, only a divorce. Behaving like this won’t change that fact. If you don’t want to spend thousands of pounds in legal fees, just sign the papers.’

‘That’s it? Nine years and that’s all you have to say to me?’

Becky looks down at the table.

I take a seat beside her. ‘Actually, Becky did have something she wanted to say to you. She told me so, right before we went to bed together last night.’ I turn to her. ‘Do you remember?’

She looks at me and I give her the slightest nod, trying to say,You’ve got this. She squeezes my hand, then slowly rises to her full height, facing Mike. The feeling of her strength growing is palpable. She signs her name on the divorce papers, then pushes them across the table.

‘There was one thing I wanted to say. Go fuck yourself, you sick, hateful bastard.’

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